


like they do in vegas

by artificialmac



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Casino Girl AU, F/F, Flirting, Gambling, Getting to Know Each Other, Las Vegas, Lesbian AU, Lesbian Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Vanessa is a Casino Girl just trying to get by. Monique is a mysterious rich stranger. They meet in the city of sin. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Monique Heart
Comments: 25
Kudos: 26





	1. Go Big or Go Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ortega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortega/gifts).



> This fic came about from a series of prompts I did on my blog and is entirely Ortega's fault. I blame her, and this is also dedicated to her because Vanique is a god-tier ship and I needed to contribute in some way. 
> 
> As always, Meggie is a lovely person and I thank her endlessly for betaing this.
> 
> And to you at home, I hope you enjoy!

Vanessa arrived exactly twenty minutes before she was scheduled to clock in. 

She threw her purse into the row of lockers and headed for the back of the small employee lounge. She passed the clock-in computer, the whiteboard on the wall, the flyers for various shows around town, and walked all the way to the last dressing room, after noticing the other two were already occupied. Vanessa smiled instinctively at the sound of Vixen’s voice raised above the sound of someone else playing music. She was yelling to whoever was in the adjacent dressing room, recounting a story of the night’s events.

Vanessa got dressed quickly, slipping out of her plain black jeans and sweater combination and into her sparkly silver dress that caught and reflected beams of light in a way that she had been told was mesmerizing. Vanessa never really noticed before she started working here, the dress most likely having been picked off a sales rack back home. It didn’t matter where it came from now. 

What mattered now was that Vanessa’s hair was a mess.

Aquaria told her so and tried to sound exasperated when she did. It only ended up coming out fondly. Vanessa gave her a winning smile and batted her lashes too for good measure before the younger girl rolled her eyes and motioned to the chair beside her. Aquaria went to town on curling the particularly unruly strands, but there wasn’t time for much else; they both knew another round of patrons was due to hit any minute now.

Everyone that worked in Vegas knew the waves. 

11 p.m. brought the moms and the bachelorette parties. 

11:30 p.m. brought older couples and divorcees. 

12 a.m. brought the guys with girlfriends.

12:30 a.m. brought the guys without girlfriends. 

1 a.m. brought the wealthy singles, and the wealthy not-so-singles.

1:30 a.m. brought in the drunk people.

2 a.m. was what girls like Vanessa liked to call ‘closing time.’ Seal the deal or your ass was out on the curb for the night.

Luckily, Vanessa had an apartment, unlike some of the other casino girls. And the 300 square feet could be roomy—if she closed her eyes. 

Vanessa made do.

Aquaria shooed her away from the chair at 12:55, giving Vanessa ample time to squeeze every last detail from Vixen, who was more than happy to recount _yet another_ story about a creepy man trying to get her to join his brothel. 

Offers like that were strangely common in this line of work. Well, maybe they weren’t so strange. 

Most people thought they were sex workers anyway. Prostitutes or strippers, whores hired to seduce the male patrons and run them dry. Some of the other girls saw it that way. But as far as Vanessa was concerned, she was a glorified waitress. Her job was to facilitate the purchase of alcohol. The more people drank, the prettier she looked; the more they bet, the more they lost or won, the more money the casinos made. 

In a lot of ways, it was a dream job. Vanessa got paid to look pretty and talk. Two things she was naturally gifted at. 

Out on the main floor of the casino, Vanessa began her usual route around the space. She spent a good few minutes just drawing eyes, pulling focus from the card games, slot machines, and general greed. She walked slowly, careful to tilt her head down, flutter her eyelashes when patrons were close enough to see the eye makeup she had hurriedly done on the bus. 

Vanessa was good at her job. She found a mark within five minutes. 

Older guy. Late fifties. Nicely dressed. Seemingly ordinary. But what Vanessa instantly noticed was his watch. Rolex, one of the older ones. That’s ultimately how Vanessa picked all her marks. Her daddy used to say ‘ _what a man wears on his wrist he wears with pride_.’ There was something more about shoes and hiding, but Vanessa never remembered that part. 

She was fine with the Rolex, but she had really been hoping to find a Patek tonight. 

Rolexes only started at $5,000. 

But Vanessa made do. 

She waltzed over to the roulette wheel, making sure to smile warmly at the employee behind the table. She gracefully rested her hands on the edge of the table as the casino employee gave a nearly imperceptible nod toward Mr. Rolex. Vanessa winked at him in thanks.

“You know I always go for 32,” Vanessa said to the group of men who had just started to take notice of her presence. She honed her sights on Mr. Rolex to see his reaction.  
He practically preened under the attention. Vanessa rolled her eyes internally.

_This was getting too easy._

Mr. Rolex eventually pulled up another seat and sent Vanessa to the bar three times before turning to ask her name.

If she were anywhere else, doing any other job, Vanessa might have been offended.

She only batted her eyes and giggled animatedly. “Vanjie,” she lied.

Mr. Rolex took that as his cue to lean in closer and press a whiskery kiss to Vanessa’s neck. She did her best not to freeze up under the attention and to just go with it.

It was then while pretending she was anywhere else, that Vanessa noticed a woman at the opposite end of the casino. She was sitting alone in one of the plush chairs that made up the lounge. It was noticeable because she was alone and fucking _gorgeous_. Long flowing dark hair and the tightest red dress Vanessa had ever seen that fell off her curves like water. 

Vanessa was intrigued instantly. No woman that looked like that was alone in Vegas for no reason.

She convinced Mr. Rolex and his new buddies that they needed more gin and made her way quickly over to the bar, allowing herself the immense pleasure of ogling the strange woman from afar.

For all her smooth grace and easy confidence, Vanessa was rendered nearly incoherent when it came to women. Men were easy. You leaned over the table and their monkey brains took over. Women on the other hand… Women were a different species.

Vanessa tried to squeeze information from the bartender. He knew nothing, only that she ordered a martini and had been sitting alone all night.

Vanessa couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to her. So she did something stupid. Something stupid and silly that she would beat herself up over later: she ordered the mystery woman a martini. Vanessa went back over to Mr. Rolex and his friends, placed the drinks in front of them, and then made up an excuse about ‘being right back’ and having to ‘take care of something.’

Mr. Rolex and his friends were too engrossed in their game to care and Vanessa slipped away without any fuss.

As she headed back over to the bar, Vanessa noticed the woman was gone from her spot in the lounge. Vanessa’s heart sank in her chest and she was tempted to throw the whole night out as a waste when she noticed the woman perched at the bar looking directly at her. 

“So you’re the cute thing that ordered me a drink,” the woman said by way of a greeting. “This one,” she nodded her head at the bartender, “was tellin’ me you don’t do that for many people. Should I be honored?”

“You tell me,” Vanessa shot back, surprising even herself with her quick wit.

The woman chuckled in response, throwing her head back and causing a commotion with her joy. Something inside Vanessa ached to be that free. 

The woman motioned to the barstool next to her and Vanessa took it without another thought.

“You play much?” Vanessa asked, motioning to the various gambling methods. 

“Betting?” the woman asked. “Not usually. I get sucked in, and you know what they say.”

“Hmm?”

“Greed is a sin.”

Vanessa laughed. “Oh baby, you in the city of sin.”

“Monique,” the woman corrected.

“What?”

“Not ‘baby.’ Monique.”

Vanessa smiled, and the woman, Monique, smiled back. 

She raised up her hand to take a sip of her drink and Vanessa nearly choked at the sight of a Mille RM 51-02 draped elegantly over Monique’s wrist. 

She had never seen a Mille in person before, having only ever heard stories of the watches that started at $30,000 and could go up to two million. 

The vortex of gold and silver embedded in the watch face drew Vanessa’s eyes and she couldn’t help the smile overtaking her face. “Well, you know what they say, Monique?” 

The corner of Monique’s mouth quirked up and she shook her head no.  
Vanessa smirked. “Go big or go home.”

* * *

Vanessa smiled into her drink as Monique threw her head back in a laugh.

The sound reverberated off the glass in her hand, and Vanessa was sure that the joy in Monique’s voice had more to do with the warmth in her stomach than the alcohol.

“So what is it that you do, Vanjie?” Monique asked, her voice alight with humor and warmth.

“You ain’t never met a casino girl before?”

Monique shook her head _no_.

“I look pretty and get drinks,” Vanessa chuckled. “Speakin’ of,” Vanessa trailed off, looking to the side door where she could clearly make out her boss, Ms. Visage, glaring at her. “I’d love to keep talkin’ but—”

“How ‘bout I play some games?” Monique offered. “That should get her off your back, yeah?”

And now Vanessa was sure the alcohol couldn’t be the cause of the warmth because her whole body lit up under the knowledge that Monique wanted to spend more time with her. 

“Thought you didn’t gamble,” Vanessa teased. “Somethin’ about it bein’ a sin...”

“I think if the Lord were in my place, he’d understand.”

They made the rounds: slot machines, poker, and Vanessa’s favorite, Blackjack. 

The Blackjack tables were set apart from the rest of the casino, some architect really letting loose with the layout of the section. The ceiling was arched, and the tables were long surrounded by plush seating rather than the stiff angled chairs that lined the other tables. 

Vanessa assumed her favorite position, perching herself on the arm of the chair while leaning into Monique’s presence, allowing her easy access to duck down and huskily whisper words of encouragement. All the while keeping their skin from touching. 

It was an old move. One she had learned her first week working here. The girls called it the _Blackjack Bag_. You made it so you were constantly leaning down to whisper directly in your target’s ear; this gave you the excuse to flaunt your cleavage while also getting a target riled up by the sound of your voice. 

The Blackjack tables are where you bagged targets, hence, the title. 

Monique seemed to be no different in that respect. No matter how hard she tried to hide her flush, each time Vanessa leaned down to compliment her, her hands tightened on her cards.

She was doing well. She had gotten a face card nearly every hand, and she knew when to fold and when to go for it. Vanessa was impressed. She told her as much.

“Beginner’s luck really does exist,” Vanessa teased.

Monique pulled her head back to look Vanessa up and down, taking her time to really take the younger woman in. “I’ll show you luck,” she said as she moved her massive pile of chips to the middle.

“All in.”

The men at the table squawked in a mixture of shock and protest. Monique just made a vague hand motion to keep playing.

Vanessa’s jaw was on the floor. 

Monique only had a three and a queen. Statistically, at least one of the other players had to have higher cards than that.

The house went around, the men to her left and right got another card, but Monique stayed calm, and denied it. 

It was then that Vanessa realized what Monique was doing.

She was using Vanessa as a lie detector almost, signaling to the other players what cards she had. Vanessa kept her expression neutral, and did a damn good job of it too because the other players all looked at her surprised.

As expected, they all folded, and Monique took back her mound of chips and the additional bets.

She looked up at Vanessa with a self-satisfied smirk, never breaking eye contact as she flipped her cards over.

The table erupted. 

_Two can play your games_ , she had said without opening her mouth. 

Vanessa just smirked.

At one point, after Monique bested some business suit out of his measly twenty grand, the man approached Vanessa and attempted to make a move, running his hands harshly up and down her sides. Vanessa rejected him but pointed him in the direction of one of her fellow employees. 

He didn’t seem to get the hint until Monique looked up from her cards and wrapped an arm possessively around Vanessa’s middle. 

“I think,” she practically spit, “my girl told you to get lost.”

The suit looked at them with a raised eyebrow but didn’t dare say anything more. Vanessa felt white heat in her gut at the feeling of Monique’s arm around her, and she had to take a second to compose herself.

Vanessa turned back to the game and was surprised to find Monique’s eyes searching her own. “Does that happen a lot?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah,” Vanessa tried to brush it off, “but you know, it’s Vegas.”

“And that makes it okay?”

Vanessa shook her head lightly. “Nah, but what can ya do?”

Monique looked at her hard, calculating. She didn’t say anything, but turned back to her game, placing her cards on the table before attempting to stand up

“I fold.”

Vanessa looked at her shocked. “You were winning, wha—”

Monique stood in front of her, eyes wide, asking permission, seeing if this was real. The vulnerability in her expression nearly made Vanessa take a step back.

“You wanna get out of here?” Monique asked, expression unassuming and open. “You can say no. I—”

Vanessa stopped Monique with a hand to her face. The first skin to skin contact. “Do I look like I wanna say no?”


	2. Tell Me About Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monique and Vanessa get to know each other over a very early (2 am) breakfast, with the backdrop of the Las Vegas strip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a million to Meggie and Alex for betaing this chapter and being legends, icons, and stars.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

They didn’t go back to Monique’s room like Vanessa expected. 

Instead, Monique hailed a cab with one outstretched, manicured hand, gave the address of The Venetian, and they climbed in the car without another word. 

The drive was short even though the roads were packed. Vanessa stared out the window to keep from staring at Monique.

They called New York the city that never sleeps, but Vanessa would bet her left tit that New York didn’t have the same energy that Vegas did at 3 a.m. The sidewalks were packed, and the lights were bright as sunlight. Vanessa would have winced if her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the brilliance years ago.

They pulled up to the hotel, the fountains and massive scale of the whole place only really hitting Vanessa when she stood next to it. Monique thanked their driver with a twenty. Vanessa held her head high and pretended this was normal, that beautiful women with deep pockets took her out regularly.

They made their way inside the lush reception area and Monique led Vanessa with a hand to her back up the intricate staircase. Vanessa had been to the Venetian before. When friends came to visit and wanted to see the infamous hotel, or the rare occurrence when she would go home with a target. She was never there for longer than a handful of minutes. Hadn’t gotten the chance to stare at the gold-flecked columns, or the rose-dipped ceiling. The plum color drenching the seating that littered the floor, the layout both relaxed and rigid in the same breath. 

Vanessa was in awe. People milled about the lobby like they belonged, walking slowly, taking their time. The luxury practically sang in their blood. 

They ascended the stairs and headed toward the Grand Lux Cafe. Monique requested a table on the outside balcony, and before Vanessa could blink, they were seated high above the twinkling city, breathing in the open air.

Their waitress greeted them with that quintessential Vegas charm in that she barely looked at them and grunted after each of their orders.

Vanessa went to order something dainty, like a salad or a soup, but Monique cut her off saying they'd both take a full order of waffles with all the sides and extra butter. Vanessa just quirked an eyebrow up at her.

“So tell me about yourself.”

The sudden absurdity of the situation, as well as the question, caught Vanessa off guard and she let out a laugh that could have shaken the tables. Monique let her, grinning wildly in the interim. 

Vanessa made a wide sweeping gesture with both hands, chest feeling oddly light. “What do ya wanna know?”

“Well, first of all, you can start by telling me your name,” Monique teased. “Your real name.” 

Vanessa started at this. 

Her reaction must have not been what the older woman was expecting, because she quickly went to correct herself. “Or not! You don’t have to tell me.” Monique looked down at the table.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just…” Vanessa shook her head slightly. “Most people don’t care enough to ask.”

Monique looked up at her, a trace of sadness in her eye. Vanessa chose to ignore it for now in favor of the conversation.

“Vanessa.”

“That’s pretty.”

Vanessa hummed. “It does the job.” She looked up at Monique from under her lashes. A practiced move. “What do _you_ do, Monique?”

The older woman’s eyes flicked over the balcony to the city below. “I run a marketing management firm.”

 _Makes sense with the watch_ , Vanessa’s mind interjected. 

“What does that mean?”

Vanessa knew what it meant. She’d met with more businessmen than she knew what to do with over her three-year residence. 

HR was where the older men went after Wall Street prowling. Social Media Management was for the younger ones, early/late twenties who were still wet behind the ears. Marketing could go either way, usually catering to the folks with accounting degrees and an interest in psychology. 

Vanessa knew. She played dumb because targets always liked telling you about what they do. They liked explaining things to the poor uneducated little girl with wide eyes and a slit in her dress. Vanessa played her part, still unsure of where she stood with Monique.

The older woman chuckled, her eyes darting back to Vanessa. “It means I boss around the people that boss other people around, and we create promotional materials for major companies.”

“Anyone I’d know?” Vanessa asked absentmindedly, allowing plenty of time for her present company to drone on and on about how incredible her business ventures were. How rich she was. How important it all made her.

The left corner of Monique’s mouth twitched up. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

Vanessa chuckled, a bit taken aback by the lack of droning. “Oooh, mysterious.”

Monique hummed. 

“Well, you clearly good at your job,” Vanessa said.

Monique quirked up an eyebrow. “Why would you say that?”

“The watch,” Vanessa said before she could think better of it. 

“Yeah, I noticed you eying it earlier,” Monique said, voice calculated. Not judgmental, but measured. “Is that how you pick your…”

“Targets?”

“People?”

They answered simultaneously. 

Monique chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that.” She took a long sip of her drink and Vanessa found herself wanting to apologize. She bit her tongue before she could actually follow through with such a hair-brained idea.

Instead, she shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Monique nodded, still not giving away her feelings, face set in a slight upturn of her lips. “So how do you pick your marks then?”

Vanessa ran a hand through her hair absentmindedly. “Why do you wanna know?”

Monique shrugged. “Humor me,” she said. “Walk me through the steps, Vanessa.”

Monique’s tongue curling around the syllables of her name made Vanessa’s insides light up in an all too familiar way. She had to break eye contact or she was going to do something stupid. 

She also had to take a minute to collect her thoughts. No one had ever asked her anything like this before. Targets didn’t usually want the illusion broken. They knew what they were to her, but you weren’t supposed to acknowledge it. It was a weird game of social chicken. 

“Okay. Well.” Vanessa coughed. “First step is lookin’ the part.” She motioned to her dress, still reflecting the city lights below them. “You gotta be eye candy.”

Monique bit back a smile, and Vanessa could feel her eyes trailing down the length of her neck. The flush spreading to her cheeks made Vanessa’s head a little fuzzy.

“Second step is knowin’ your worth. You don’t go to seedy casinos or you get creeps. You wanna roll high, aim high. Bellagio, Caesars Palace, Cosmopolitan,” Vanessa said matter-of-factly. “They put you out, you’re better off working the corner. Casino girls get paid dust. Less than dust. But you don’t wanna be on the streets.”

Monique hummed noncommittally, prompting Vanessa to continue.

“Step three ain’t somethin’ you learn. You gotta be good with people. Know what they want. Men are easy. Sex, booze, drugs, gettin’ off. Simple.” Vanessa let out a breath. “The real art in it all comes in the form of pretendin’ to not know any a that. A lot of what you do is pretendin’ you can’t tell your left foot from your right. Targets love explainin’. Makes ‘em feel good to brag to somebody they ain’t ever gonna see again.”

The older woman nodded, crossing her legs under the table.

Vanessa nodded to herself. “Then you got ‘em. Make ‘em feel special, get ‘em drinks, whisper in they ear till they pockets empty. You get that check from the casino at the end of the week, and sometimes targets offer you more to sleep with ‘em. If that’s your thing then there ya go.” Vanessa leaned back in her chair, just in time for their food to arrive.

The waitress set their plates down none too gently and scattered the second she affirmed they needed nothing else.

“Sounds like a lot to keep track of,” Monique mused, twirling her empty fork in her hand.

“It ain’t so bad.” Vanessa shrugged. “I could be out on the street.”

They paused for a moment to dig into their food, Vanessa’s stomach noisily thanking her for the extra syrup. Monique watched her with light in her eyes. It was unnerving. Not in a bad way per se. It was just different. 

A not wholly unwelcome different.  
Vanessa read people well, it was her job. But for some reason, she couldn’t get a clear read on Monique, her motivations, or what drove her. Usually, Vanessa only had to nod and smile as people freely offered up information about themselves for her to use. Monique was playing her cards close to her chest, not unlike the way she had been playing the games earlier. 

Monique hummed as she set her fork down gently next to her plate. “Will you show me?” she asked. 

“Huh?”

Monique looked around at the other tables for a moment before pointing to a well-dressed man, early thirties, younger than her usual targets.

“Walk me through how you would… acquire him.” Monique settled on.

Vanessa was intrigued. This woman, she wasn’t doing anything by the book. Targets didn’t ask her questions, didn’t listen to her answers. They talked and she half-listened and wished she were anywhere else. Monique was throwing that all out the window, or, over the balcony.

“Why?”

Monique shrugged simply, still hiding her motivations behind a curious smile. “I wanna see you in action.”

“How do you know you ain’t been seein’ me in action?” Vanessa quirked up a brow. Challenging.

“You wouldn’t have left the casino with me if I were just another .”

Monique had her there.

Vanessa swallowed pointedly. “Well, he’s young,” she threw out, eyes trailing up the man’s form. “Thirties. No wedding ring, which is a good sign, makes my job easier.”

Monique’s eyes darted back over the balcony.

“If we were at a casino he’d probably be playing Texas Hold-Em. All the bachelors love that game, I swear.” Vanessa smiled to herself. She looked over to see the young man grinning widely with his date. “He’s wearing Valentino, so he’s definitely a fan of the classics, old movies and old stereotypes of women included.”

Monique chuckled “And you know that just from his suit?”

Vanessa nodded. “His haircut says accounting, but he ain’t got a watch, so he probably works in an office building. My guess is he a trust fund baby workin’ for daddy’s company in a big city.” Vanessa shrugged, satisfied with her answer. “But he’s not a local,” she added as an afterthought.

“How do you know?” Monique questioned.

Vanessa allowed a smirk to envelop her features. “He keeps lookin’ over the balcony.”

Monique’s eyes widened for a split second in shock. But only for a second.

Vanessa smirked inwardly. The first slip of this woman’s cool facade hit Vanessa like a drug. She needed more of it.

“If we was at the casino I’d bump into him on accident, pitch my voice higher, like this.” Vanessa demonstrated, clearing her throat before she spoke in a squeaky and unfamiliar way. She feigned dainty. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that, I’m so clumsy. Let me make it up to you with a drink.”

“And that works?” Monique raised a brow incredulously.

Vanessa nodded. “He’d be thrown off at first but he’d get a good look at me and say no harm done. He’d probably make some comment about how ‘the man should buy the drink.’ And I’d smile and look down at my feet. Make myself small. He’d offer to buy me a round. I’d refuse ‘cause I’m workin’. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, those guys never do.”

Monique’s smile faded and she nodded slowly, understanding crossing behind her eyes.

“Bada-bing, bada-boom. I hit my quota for the night.” Vanessa tried to finish with a bit of a flare to lighten the suddenly tense mood.

Monique was just looking at her stunned, mouth gaping open. “That’s amazing.”

Vanessa was thrown by the compliment.“W-well, it’s the job.” She cursed her voice for coming out unsteady. 

“No, the way you did that, just then.” Monique reached across the table to grasp Vanessa’s hand. “Observed all that about him just from one look.” 

Vanessa was most assuredly blushing now. “Oh, well, I—”

“It’s amazing!” Monique exclaimed. “Really, Vanessa you’re so incredible.” 

The tone of Monique’s voice was too genuine for Vanessa’s liking. She didn’t know how to respond to that, to any of it. People didn’t act like that. They weren’t nice for no reason. Monique had an agenda.

Everyone did.

Still, Vanessa could feel in her gut that Monique wasn’t out to hurt her. Monique was different. Or maybe that was the silly romanticism getting in Vanessa’s head again. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference. 

“I wouldn’t say that…”

Monique cut her off. “I would. I just did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then that settles it.” Monique smiled. “You’re amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr @imalwaysaslutfordrag


	3. You'll Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa goes back to Monique's room and learns more about the mysterious businesswoman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meggie is and always will be an angel on this earth and I can't thank her enough for betaing and being lovely.
> 
> Fair warning: this chapter does contain smut!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Monique wasn’t staying at The Venetian, which made the short ride over to The Bellagio that much more unbearable. 

Monique didn’t hide her attraction to Vanessa. There was no shame in the way she leaned into her touch or the way her eyes lingered on Vanessa’s skin. It was almost embarrassing in a way. Such open lust. But it also made Vanessa’s skin prickle and sizz when her thigh pressed against Monique’s in the back of the cab. The older woman kept a firm hand on her leg, the contact warming Vanessa from the inside out. 

She felt different, Monique did.

In the past, when Vanessa had gone home with targets it had been less nerve-wracking. Maybe because she had no emotional stake in the encounter. Though Vanessa was still loath to admit that the older woman had made that much of an impact over the course of the night. But as it was, Vanessa could feel her heart thrumming in her veins, electricity tingling down to the base of her spine in anticipation of what was to come.

No matter how much Vanessa wanted to pretend this woman had no effect on her, she was practically gagging for it.

The journey up to the Chairman Suite was uneventful, Vanessa’s mind already so fogged up with the way Monique’s legs looked in her skintight dress, she didn’t have time to admire the opulence of the hotel.

She reasoned with herself that she would get another chance at a later date. Much more pressing matters were at hand.

Monique, ever the put-together image of grace, took her time. As they entered the suite, she set her coat over the back of the plush chair in the lounge space before making her way over to the bar. She rummaged around for a moment before coming up with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Vanessa felt glued to the spot; for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure what was expected of her. 

Should she decline? Get a move on to the inevitable conclusion of the night? Did Monique want her to?

“You’re thinking too loud.” Monique offered her an easy smile and a full glass.

Vanessa took it graciously and took a sip to keep her hands busy. “Sorry,” she mumbled around the edge of the glass.

“Don’t apologize, baby.” 

And oh, yeah, okay, Vanessa was definitely invested. Just that one term of endearment had heat spreading from her chest down to her toes. It could have also been the wine.

“And don’t worry so much. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Vanessa nodded. The reassurance was nice if not unnecessary. If she didn’t want to sleep with Monique she wouldn’t have bought her a drink, wouldn’t have made it this far, wouldn’t be holding her breath now as Monique’s eyes trailed up her body, caressing her skin without ever touching it.

Suddenly all the air in the room seemed to deplete and the fact that the only physical contact they had had was a brush of a hand here or there was unacceptable. 

Monique must have felt similarly because she plucked the glass out of Vanessa’s hands and placed it lightly on the counter behind her, never once breaking eye contact. Vanessa’s hands were frozen in place, clutching an object that wasn’t there. 

Monique took Vanessa’s hands gently and guided them to wrap around the back of her neck. 

“You’re still thinking too loud.” Monique smiled as she pressed their foreheads together. “Let me help,” she whispered.

Vanessa nodded dumbly and their lips met. 

The kiss wasn’t as frantic as Vanessa had imagined. There was heat. It was undeniably present in the way Vanessa melted against Monique. It crept into her blood, into her very being, pricking and burning at the back of her neck, singeing the hair there.

She needed to cool down, to get clothes off, off, 

As if reading her mind, Monique chuckled, pulling back slightly. “Slow down, baby.” She smiled, letting her fingers brush the stray hairs out of Vanessa’s face. “We’ve got time.”

Vanessa didn’t feel like they had time. Her skin was burning, and she wanted to tell Monique that hey, her skin was on fire, and there wasn’t enough time because Vanessa was suddenly convinced there would never be enough time with Monique. And _god_ wasn’t that a stupidly romantic thing to think.

There was no time to berate herself for falling for a stranger in the span of a few hours because Monique’s hands were on her hips, pulling her closer, whispering against the shell of her ear.

“You’ll tell me if you want to stop, yeah?”

Vanessa nodded as Monique trailed her lips up the column of Vanessa’s neck, stopping to suck on her pulse point.

“Words, baby.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa’s voice was breathy and foreign in her own ears, but she couldn’t care about that now, as Monique was pulling away.

The older woman gave her a reassuring smile before taking her hand lightly and leading her to the bedroom. 

It was massive, the room was. The floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city of lights immediately drew Vanessa in. It was like she was compelled by some force other than herself to step closer to the panes of glass, closer to the edge.

Vanessa swore she had never been so high up in her life. The city looked impossibly more beautiful at night with a beautiful woman’s arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. Monique reassured her that they had time, to look all she liked. 

Vanessa could have told her that she would be looking all her life. Could have told her any number of things at that moment. About her past, plans for the future, dreams she would never see realized, her biggest fears, that she was shit scared of what this all meant.

It hit her in the gut how intensely she felt. Like the whole world was constantly waiting on her shoulders for the perfect time to suffocate her. But Monique didn’t let it. Each time Vanessa almost collapsed under the weight of her own feelings, Monique would pull her out with a kiss to her cheek, her neck, her ear.

They stayed that way for ages. 

Until Vanessa spun around in Monique’s arms because she decided it had been too long since she had seen the older woman’s eyes. 

Monique smiled at her. Unassuming. Perfectly, ordinarily exquisite. 

Vanessa could have told Monique many things, but she settled for kissing her instead. 

This kiss was slower, more relaxed, but not any more perfect. Vanessa always found descriptions of kissing to be trite or at the very least boring. Sparks didn’t fly, fireworks didn’t erupt. It was two wet mouths pressed against each other, messy and unrefined and breathless. That was the appeal. It was dirty and uncoordinated and raw. The raw _need_ to be closer to another person.

Vanessa also felt a raw need between her legs. The throbbing in her cunt only rivaled by the beating in her chest.

Monique could tell, like a sixth sense she could sense Vanessa’s waning patience. She pulled the younger girl away from the window by her hips, gently steering them toward the bed and rotating their positions so the back of Vanessa’s knees hit the soft bedspread a moment later.

Monique lay her down, whispering gentle commands to scoot up and spread out against the headboard. Vanessa did as she was told, sinking into the soft linen as she moved dreamily up the bed. Monique stayed where she was, observing her movements not unlike a predator would observe prey. It made that same heat from before settle in Vanessa’s gut. 

She rubbed her thighs together absentmindedly, gasping at the wetness she already felt, her hair flung out around her like a halo, and she knew she looked anything but angelic. Monique smiled softly, far too softly for how her eyes lingered on Vanessa’s skin.

Vanessa felt herself sitting up, pulling at the straps of Monique’s sinfully tight dress. 

“Off,” she whispered.

Monique nodded her head, lifting her arms and quickly throwing the dress off and away. She was left in nothing but a pair of panties that matched the wine red of her dress and Vanessa was suddenly aware of how dry her mouth was. Monique’s body was gorgeous. She was all beautiful curves and dark, smooth skin. 

The way she crawled on top of Vanessa was mesmerizing. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Vanessa whispered like a prayer.

“Thank you.” Monique husked, just as reverently. “I think it's your turn now, baby.”

Vanessa nodded absentmindedly, brain empty save for the sight before her; she would have agreed to anything Monique asked her if it meant they could finally touch. Skin to skin.

Vanessa shimmied out of her dress, graceless and clumsy but she didn’t care, because as soon as the fabric had been tossed away, Monique’s lips were back on hers, frantic and all-consuming.

Monique’s hands were everywhere, trailing up and down Vanessa’s sides languidly. She smirked against Vanessa’s lips as the younger girl instinctively parted her legs more at the movement.

“Eager?”

“Shut up and touch me,” Vanessa tried to say forcefully, but it ended up coming out breathless and needy.

Monique chuckled. “Shhh, my beautiful girl.” The older woman ran a hand down Vanessa’s face, cupping it lightly. “I’ll take care of you.” Monique smiled. “I’ll give you what you need.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Vanessa whined.

Monique pressed her knee up against Vanessa’s soaked panties and chuckled at the wetness seeping out, practically drenching her knee. She trailed kisses down Vanessa’s neck to her chest, sucking each of her nipples into her mouth, all the while trailing her hands up any part of Vanessa she could reach. Her thighs, her calves, her stomach, her arms. Her knee keeping solid pressure against Vanessa’s leaking pussy.

Vanessa felt like she was going crazy, hips rolling down uselessly on Monique’s leg, frantically searching for friction. Whimpers were leaving her lips without her permission, and she was sweaty and breathless and Monique was hardly even touching her. 

Vanessa wasn't sure how much more of it she could take, so, in an act of defiance for the slow pace they had formed, she gripped Monique’s wrist and shoved it down her panties, moaning out as Monique found her clit within seconds, rolling the hardened nub between her fingers.

“Fuck.”

“How do you want it, baby?” Monique mused, easing off the pressure, allowing Vanessa to miss it. “Fast and hard? Slow and deep? My mouth? My fingers?”

Vanessa couldn’t breathe clearly, let alone process all those words. “Yes, yes, fuck all of it,” she whimpered.

Monique tsked at her answer. “You gotta be more specific, baby. Wanna give you what you need.”

“I _need_ you inside me,” Vanessa snapped.

“Okay then,” Monique chuckled at her irritated tone.

She slowly, always slowly, worked Vanessa’s panties down her legs and threw them somewhere into the darkened bedroom behind her. It was then that Vanessa noticed the only real light in the room was coming from the city beneath them, filtering through the large windows and forming shapes over their intertwined bodies.

Vanessa would have winced if her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the brilliance years ago.

Monique continued to circle the edge of Vanessa’s pussy with the tips of her fingers until Vanessa gave a frustrated groan, the last strands of her sanity fragmenting the longer Monique teased. Eventually, the older woman gave in to Vanessa’s mindless pleas and pushed two fingers inside her.

She started pistoning them in and out slowly, but precisely.

Vanessa’s back arched and before long, her legs were trembling and she was biting her lip harshly as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. 

Monique worked her though the aftershocks, until the livewire in her body stopped sparking. Vanessa pulled Monique closer, kissed her lips, took her time this go around. Tasted the hint of syrup and gin on her tongue. Reveled in the way the flavors clashed.

She ate Monique out quick and dirty, had perfected her technique by now. Not that she had that many female targets in the past, usually just housewives that didn’t know what an orgasm was, save for their showerheads, and the occasional vibrating toothbrush. 

That wasn’t what was important, what was important was that Monique came with Vanessa’s name on her lips. Moaned high and clear and perfectly crafted around each syllable so there was no mistaking it. 

Vanessa worried she would never be able to unhear it. 

They lay in silence for a while.

Monique asked quietly if it was okay for them to cuddle. Vanessa didn’t wait a second more before burying her head into the space between Monique’s chin and collarbone. The older woman’s strong, sure hands wrapped securely around Vanessa's shoulders and waist.

She felt her heart jump in her chest. 

If she were able to think clearly, she would have scolded herself for such a silly reaction.

Monique brushed her fingers through loose strands of Vanessa’s hair and placed them back around her face, framing it nicely. The gesture felt incredibly fond. Incredibly inappropriate for a one night stand in the City of Sin. 

The silence was broken a moment later by Monique. 

“What do you wanna do?” she asked softly, words laced with care. 

“Hmm?” Vanessa asked sleepily.

“After…” she paused. “After you… get what you came to the city for. What do you wanna do?”

Which loosely translated to, ‘what do you want to do after you get enough money and realize this lifestyle isn’t sustainable.’

“You’ll laugh,” Vanessa said. _They always laughed_.

“I won’t.”

Vanessa sighed. She believed her. “I wanna go back to school.”

Monique lifted her head up so she could look down to meet Vanessa’s eyes, her lips turned up at the corners, but it wasn’t patronizing. It was a genuine show of emotion. Raw and non-judgemental and real.

Vanessa had to keep talking, or she was going to combust from the feelings building up inside her because of that look. “I seen the way those men, the ones in the casinos, I seen the way they look at the world. I hear it all the time. Kill or be killed. Top dogs and shit.” Vanessa shook her head. “It’s crap. All of it. The world ain’t that depressin’. I know it ain’t.”

Monique didn’t say anything but looked at her with something different in her eye. Something akin to pride.

Vanessa had to look away, to break eye contact, because the longer she looked, the more of herself she felt she lost.

“I just think there’s gotta be more to life than drinkin’ away your problems and pretendin’ that means you happy.” Vanessa shrugged. “I dunno, maybe I’m stupid for thinkin’ anything would change. For thinkin’ that I could make a change.”

“Well, I think if anyone on this planet could make a change, it’s gonna be you.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes in spite of herself.

“Now you’re just messin’ with me.” Vanessa shimmied out of Monique’s grasp. She knew the older woman was being truthful. If Vanessa were honest, she knew Monique hadn’t lied to her yet. 

There was something so… empowering in her vulnerability. It was utterly and undeniably human. There was no mask, no secret she was burying. 

Monique just was. 

That’s why Vanessa couldn’t bear to hear any more about how wonderful Monique thought she was. Because she knew it was real.

“I’m not messing with you. I—”

“You got a shower?” Vanessa cut her off before she could say something else that made Vanessa’s chest constrict pleasantly.

Monique showed no sign of offense. She just nodded. “Yeah, and a tub, and another shower across the hall.”

Vanessa chuckled and shook her head. Rich people.

“You take the one in here, I’ll go ‘cross the hall.”

Monique seemed reluctant to do so, but after more pointed silence from Vanessa, she got up and made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind herself. 

Vanessa exhaled. 

She put her head in her hands and breathed in and out deeply for as long as she could stand it. The sudden pounding in her head made her dizzy and the crushing weight of the world suddenly felt like it was back. Not consuming her just yet. But waiting. Just around the corner.

Vanessa looked about the room, eyes scanning for anything to hold her attention. But the pounding in her head made it difficult to focus. She threw her hand out experimentally toward the nightstand, searching for a light switch of some kind. She winced a moment later as pale blue artificial light emanated from the lamp. Vanessa opened up the bedside drawer, searching for any kind of pain reliever to soothe her still pounding head.

What she found instead was a ring. 

A shiny silver ring with diamonds embedded into the metal that turned and shifted in the pale light. 

The crushing weight fell back on Vanessa’s chest.


	4. Let Me Tell You A Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monique explains her past, and Vanessa seeks comfort in her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Meggie for betaing and being a doll.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this second to last chapter!

When Monique came out of her very nice, very expensive hotel bathroom to find her wedding ring in place of the gorgeous girl she had met, she knew she fucked up.

The sinking in her stomach and the sudden ringing in her ears made the coolness of the bedsheets that much harder to bear. She glanced over at the hotel alarm clock. 

5:57

If she were home, she’d be about to get up. As it stood, she was cold. 

And lonely. 

The feeling ate itself through the lining of her stomach and crawled up to her esophagus, essentially choking her on her own feelings. And wasn’t that _so_ like her.

Monét tore into her over the phone.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to Vegas to screw around?”

Monique sighed. She hadn’t meant to. She had come for a conference and to see a few shows and to pretend like her failing marriage was happening to someone else. A close friend or a coworker. Someone she would lend an ear and shoulder to but pray to never be. 

“I wasn’t but I met this girl and—”

She was cut off before she could explain that this girl, Vanessa, really was something. And if Monét were in her position, she would have done the same thing.

“Oh, Lord.” Monét exhaled, her tone taking on that all-knowing, all-judging lilt. Monique should have known this would happen.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Monét chuckled. “It’s always you go for these business trips, you meet some girl, you think she’s the one, but then she ends up being a criminal and runs away with your bank info.”

Monique was silent for a moment. “That only happened once,” she conceded. 

“That’s one too many times, sis.”

Monique shook her head, adamant. “This one…” she mused, “this one’s different. I know she is.” Monique swore she could sense Monét shaking her head over the phone. “I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you, but this girl—”

“Have you told Darius?” Monét cut her off.

Monique huffed. “Why would I?”

Just the sound of his name made her blood run cold, ice clogging up the vessels that led to her heart.

“Oh you know, just cause you’re still married to him.” Monet spoke. “Ya know, in case you forgot.”

“Kinda easy to forget when the man hasn’t spoken to me in three days,” Monique mumbled.

Monét sighed, longsuffering and loud. “You know I love you.” Monique nodded before realizing that Monét couldn’t see her. “But you can’t keep doing this.”

“And why not?”

Monét huffed. “Well first of all, what ever would your Bible study group say?”

Monique allowed herself a giggle at that. And then one more as Monét chimed in with her own cackle. 

She knew, objectively she knew that Monét was looking out for her; was doing what a best friend should, pointing out things, behaviors, patterns, and calling her out on them. It didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Shut up, god, do you ever stop talking?” Monique said, her words broken up by chuckles that were bubbling out. 

“You’re the one that called me!”

“And now I’m hanging up,” Monique teased, taking the phone from her ear and contemplating the big red button that would end her suffering.

“No you’re not.”

No she wasn’t. 

Because she really didn’t want to. 

Monique held the phone back up to her ear and exhaled shakily, the weight of it all back pressing ceaselessly on her ribcage.

“Tell me about her.”

* * *

“I knew she was shady from the minute she got here,” Vixen said, steam practically rolling off her swinging limbs as she paced the employee lounge.

Vanessa was sat, well, propped against Asia’s body, the older woman carding sure fingers through the younger girl’s wild hair in a gesture meant to calm her. It seemed to be doing the opposite, Vanessa’s nerves like a livewire under Asia’s careful hands. She felt electric. And not in a good way. She felt like she was moments away from sparking up and burning the whole place down. All fire and brimstone.

“She was rude and mean and she wasn’t even that pretty.”

“Vix,” Vixen looked up at Asia’s words, “maybe lay off the insults while she’s crying,” the older girl said lightly.

Vanessa felt like a livewire, and yet she couldn't stop crying.

Vixen’s face softened as she took in Vanessa’s disheveled appearance. “Aww, I’m sorry Vanj, I—”

Vanessa shook her head. “It’s fine, V.”

The layout of the room made it easy for Vanessa to notice the minute facial expressions that passed between Asia and Vixen. Plush red seating in the middle of the lounge was flanked on all sides by vanities, which provided very little privacy. They both looked wary, but Asia was calm and collected and nodded once, signaling that it was okay. That Vanessa was going to be okay.

Vixen stopped pacing and came to sit across from the two women. She held out a hand for Vanessa to squeeze reassuringly, and the younger girl offered her a weak smile in return.

“You’re a strong bitch, okay?” Vixen nodded. “You’re gonna get through it. It’s one bad night.”

Vanessa wanted to shake her head. Because no, no, it wasn’t a bad night. In fact, it probably ranked in the top ten nights of her life. 

Top five if she were being honest. 

The view from the hotel alone put it above any other encounter with a target, and the fact that it was Monique, gorgeous, talented, caring, Monique, with her chocolate eyes and soft hands and huge heart and the way Vanessa had to squint when she smiled. 

Asia giggled as she noticed Vanessa spacing out. “There you go again, fallin’ for someone after one night.” She smiled, shaking her head lightly.

Vanessa’s posture stiffened reflexively, defensive. “If you’re gonna be a dick about it—”

Asia rolled her eyes, and pulled Vanessa closer, despite the younger girl’s weak protests. “Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. It just means you got a big heart.”

Vanessa sniffled. “It’s gross.”

“It means you’re a good person,” Asia insisted.

Vanessa felt her throat constricting. “It means I’m weak.”

“It means I’ll kick the next bitch who breaks your heart’s ass,” Vixen chimed in.

Vanessa chuckled in spite of herself. Allowed herself a moment to picture scrawny Vixen throwing punches that nearly toppled her. 

All of a sudden the door to the lounge flew open, revealing a chipper-looking Kameron. “Hey, Vanj. I was lookin’ for you!” she practically sang.

Vanessa wiped at her face to displace the tears that refused to quit falling. Kameron noted the tears, noted the red eyes, looked to Asia and Vixen who just shook their heads.

“That woman from the other night is asking after you,” Kameron spoke warily.

Asia stiffened against Vanessa and Vixen stood up, the show of defense making a different feeling well up in Vanessa’s chest. One of pride and belonging. 

Before Vixen could actually throw any punches, Vanessa stopped her with a hand.

“It’s okay,” she managed to say without tearing up. “I can handle myself.”

She sniffled once more before standing up and smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress.

“Holler if you need somethin’,” Asia called after her.

Vanessa nodded as the door shut firmly behind her. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, steadying her heart for its inevitable shattering.

Monique was sat in the same lounge chairs she had been in when they first met. She looked regal as ever, the only inkling to her mind being a furrowed brow and her anxious looks from side to side.

Vanessa sealed herself as she approached the older woman, attempting to use the element of surprise to her advantage. 

It backfired, because as soon as Vanessa went to open her mouth, Monique turned to look at her, and suddenly all the wheels in Vanessa’s head decided to stop working for the day

“Vanessa—”

“Y-You have five words.” Vanessa spoke as calmly as she could manage.

“Wha—”

“Four words now,” Vanessa snapped, “to explain why I shouldn’t have yo’ ass kicked to the curb right the fuck now.” 

Monique thought for a moment, the cogs in her head turning in front of Vanessa’s eyes. “Let me tell you a story.”

“That was six words.”

“I never said I was good at counting.” Monique shrugged.

Vanessa let out a laugh. It tasted bitter on her tongue. “You never said a lotta things.”

Monique’s eyes darted to the floor. “I was getting there.”

“Were you?” Vanessa tilted her head. “Cause from where I’m sittin’ you seemed like you was never gonna tell me you was married.”

“Vanessa—”

“You are married, right?” Vanessa cut her off. “That wasn’t just some ring.”

Monique nodded. “I am married.”

Vaness scoffed. “What the hell you doin’ with me for? Does she know?”

“He—”

“Oh great, it’s a man,” Vanessa groaned.

Monique ignored her outburst, but her brow creased further at Vanessa’s response. “He doesn’t know, but it isn’t working with him.”

“So what, you thought might as fuckin’ well fool around with some stupid bitch that you could leave in the mornin?”

Monique shook her head firmly. “It’s not like that,” she insisted. 

“Then what is it like?”

Monique sighed, worried her forehead between her thumb and pointer finger, and nodded toward the seat beside her. Vanessa took it, only because her heels were killing her.

“We met in college,” Monique started. “He was going into medicine, I was looking at law schools, we… matched each other’s drive.”

Vanessa watched the expressions on Monique’s face change like a screen before her eyes. There was joy. A lost joy. One that felt very far away and that if you thought about too much, looked a lot like regret.

“My parents liked him and he was easy on the eyes,” Monique continued. “He said all the right things.” 

The skin on Monique’s hands looked worn as she rubbed them together, in slow practiced movements that told Vanessa she was nervous. The creases beside Monique’s eyes deepened the longer she avoided eye contact. 

“We got married for the wrong reasons, I’ll admit it,” Monique conceded. 

“I’ll say.” Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“But I was faithful for ten years.” Monique shook her head. Regret. “And then I found he was sleeping with his secretary.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened fractionally. 

“Cliche, I know, but it’s the truth.” She looked up to meet Vanessa’s gaze, her breathing slow. “He had kids with her.” 

Vanessa bit her cheek to keep from making a face.

“A whole secret family I’d never even heard of.”

The silence stretched out before them like a buffet. Vanessa indulged for a moment, taking the time to process what she had heard, digesting the meaning.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Monique just smiled sadly. “I started going on business trips, seeing other people.” Monique nodded to herself. “Women,” she clarified. “I hadn’t gotten the chance to be myself, my true self, in nearly a decade so I went a bit wild. Clubbing and partying and all kinds of drugs. Put myself into a fog almost.”

Vanessa knew what that was like. Had seen it firsthand through friends and lovers and people that passed through the casinos. Everyone was looking for something more, an escape from their lives. Permission to live according to their own rules.

“I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah.” Monique sighed. “I hit a real low point in that year or so but with some help, I managed to pull myself out.”

Vanessa nodded.

“And then I met you.” Monique smiled, bright and honest and Vanessa’s chest ached at the brilliance. “You—” she paused. “You’re different, Vanessa.”

“I dunno what you mean.” Vanessa lied.

Monique reached over to take Vanessa’s hand in her own, the feeling of her skin sparking up the livewire at the base of Vanessa’s spine. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

Vanessa did. 

She felt it in her bones. In the core of her very soul that sang in Monique’s presence, she felt it. 

“I know it’s cheesy and sounds like a dumb pick-up line, but I think we were supposed to meet.” Monique squeezed Vanessa’s hand gently. “I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life.”

Vanessa fought the urge to run. 

The intensity in Monique’s expression, the honesty in her eyes. It was too much. It came too sudden and was all-consuming and Vanessa could hardly catch her breath she was so dizzy.

But the things Monique had said, they didn’t change anything. She was married. 

“I ain’t a homewrecker.” Vanessa shrugged. “No matter how wrecked the home already is.”

She took her hand back from Monique’s grasp, the skin burning at the loss of contact, feeling suddenly empty without its companion. Vanessa turned away, unable to look at the growing sadness in Monique’s eyes. Unable to accept that she had caused it.

_Don’t turn around._  
_Don’t turn around._  
_Don’t turn around._

Her mind repeated like a mantra as she took the first few brave steps back the way she had come.

“Vanessa!” Monique called out.

She turned around. 

“At least give me a chance to make it up to you,” she pleaded. “And if you still hate me after then I’ll never bother you again.” Monique’s eyes were open, honest. She extended a hand. “I promise.”


	5. This Is Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monique tries to make it up to Vanessa in an unconventional way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here!!! Last chapter!!! Thank you a million times over to Meggie for betaing this and being my personal angel.
> 
> Thank you to all of you who have been reading and leaving such nice comments! I never expected to make this into a full chaptered fic, but I'm so happy I did and I'm really proud of this tbh. I hope you enjoy the last chapter!!! Thanks again!!

Vanessa didn’t know why she agreed.

That was a lie, she did know why she agreed, but she figured if she didn’t say it out loud it wouldn’t be true.

Monique had taken her hand, smiled when Vanessa’s silver ring bumped her own gold one, and led them out the door of the casino, into the back of a sleek black car. The driver greeted them cordially and it took Vanessa a moment to register that this must be Monique’s personal car because she never gave an address; she hardly spoke two words to the driver before they were jetting across the brightly lit streets.

The leather was cold and unforgiving against Vanessa’s bare legs, but Monique’s hand rested gingerly on Vanessa’s upper thigh, still cautious, and shaking just the slightest bit. 

Vanessa hated that the contact warmed her up.

They drove for a while, the city lights fading in the background as desert rock formations appeared. If Vanessa had more sense in her she would have worried about getting kidnapped, but something in her gut eased those fears. 

Something she wasn’t ready to name just yet.

Monique’s hand remained a steady reminder that this was real, that she was here. When it disappeared suddenly, Vanessa looked up to see that they had stopped outside a dimly lit building in the middle of nowhere.

Vanessa’s door was opened for her and she thanked the driver with a wary smile. Before she could exhale, Monique appeared once again, offering her arm to the younger girl. 

They walked slowly toward the building, giving Vanessa ample time to admire Monique in the low light. 

The respective silver and gold color palettes of their outfits clashed, but in a way that wasn’t wholly unbearable. Vanessa had on another silver-white dress that hugged her curves, while Monique had opted for a gold top, matching gold belt and accessories. The black of her pants accentuated her color choice. 

A sudden gust of wind and a loud chopping sound cut into the still desert air. It was then that Vanessa noticed the shape of a helicopter just past the dim lights of the building. 

Monique noticed her shock and smiled gently. “You aren’t scared of heights are you?”

Vanessa shook her head, eyes wide as Monique continued to lead her toward the helicopter. 

An older gentleman greeted the two of them, or at least Vanessa thought he had, the loud beating of the blades of the helicopter was too loud for her to properly make out the words he said. But he opened the door for them to climb up into the aircraft before closing it behind them solidly. 

Monique smiled at Vanessa and helped the still shocked younger girl into her many seatbelts. She tried to ask what the hell they were doing, but the noise made it impossible. Monique shook her head, motioning to the headphones next to Vanessa’s seat and placing her own pair over her ears.

Vanessa followed the silent instructions and suddenly the oppressively loud noise made by the blades was blissfully quiet.

“That’s better.” Vanessa heard Monique’s voice in her ears, staticky over the mic. She nodded, still unsure of what exactly was happening.

“Are you ready, Ms. Heart?” the pilot asked.

Monique continued to watch Vanessa as she answered, eyes never once leaving the younger woman’s face. “Yes, thank you, Don.”

Vanessa gripped the seat as the aircraft began to lift off the ground. Monique noticed her white-knuckled grip and carefully unclenched Vanessa’s fingers and to interlock them with her own.

The reassuring gesture just made Vanessa’s already racing heart beat that much faster. 

As they ascended higher and higher up, Vanessa could no longer make out the building they had come from, the expanse of the Nevada desert overtaking her vision. 

It looked achingly peaceful at night, the usual heat-red rock dark and smooth. The dunes almost seemed to be rolling the longer she looked at them, the dust and rock and earth shifting and tumbling over itself.

As they reached cruising altitude, the helicopter jolted forward and began their journey back toward the glimmering Las Vegas. The city started off as only a small point of light and soon magnified to a world of color.

Vanessa felt the lights of Sin City draw her in as they always did, only the feeling was amplified impossibly by the sheer scope of the city. As they soared above the twinkling expanse of life, Vanessa pressed her face to the glass in an effort to look closer, makeup be damned. 

She pointed excitedly at places she recognized, hotels, casinos, shows, street names, places she hadn’t even registered going. Monique paid attention to each tangent Vanessa went on, asking questions, covering her mouth to hide smiles, shaking her head in disbelief.

And Vanessa loathed that it felt natural to be so vulnerable. 

As soon as Vanessa stopped talking though, the aircraft went silent with the sort of tension that made the palms of her hands sweat. She was suddenly reminded of their situation.

Monique coughed awkwardly. “I figured since you liked the view from the hotel, you’d like this even more.”

Vanessa looked over to her, their eyes locking for the first time since the casino. Monique looked as nervous as Vanessa felt, worrying the skin of her hands.

“It’s beautiful,” she said seriously.

And it was. Breathtakingly so.

But the whole of Las Vegas was nothing compared to Monique.

“So are you.” 

Vanessa couldn’t hold eye contact at that, opting instead to stare at her fidgeting hands on her lap. The sudden weight of it all falling onto her exposed shoulders, making her shiver at the feeling.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” Monique practically whispered.

Vanessa fought the urge to dismiss her worries. To say ‘the hell with it’ and kiss Monique within an inch of her life because no one had ever cared this much before. It felt too personal. Vanessa felt too exposed. 

And yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t last. That this overwhelming sense of being cherished was temporary. 

She was reminded that the pilot could hear their conversation, so rather than say all the things she wanted to in that moment, she settled for simplicity, and hoped her eyes would communicate the rest.

“I know.”

They soared silently above the city for a while longer, Vanessa lost in thought.

When they touched back down to the ground hours later, Vanessa felt exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks. She hadn’t registered in the moment how on edge she was and how the anxiety had essentially zapped all her energy. 

She rested her head against Monique’s shoulder as they got back into the car and sped off toward the city. With Monique’s arms wrapped securely around her, fingers carding through her hair gently, Vanessa had never felt safer.

When they came to another stop a bit later, Vanessa blinked her eyes open blearily. Monique took her hand this time and helped her out of the car and onto the bustling street. They stood there for a moment, Monique still holding Vanessa’s hands in her own. 

It was only when Vanessa lifted her head to see where they were that her stomach dropped.

“What the fuck,” Vanessa blurted.

Monique bit her lip nervously. “I figured you probably done all the fun touristy stuff before except this.”

Shock was an understatement. “This is a weddin’ chapel.”

_Open 24-hours!_ The sign boasted. _Legal Marriages!_

“Yeah.” Monique nodded. “You wanna get married?”

She offered so nonchalantly, so casually, that if Vanessa didn’t know any better she could have mistaken her words for a conversation about the weather. 

“This is crazy.”

Monique shrugged. “Well, I’m crazy ‘bout you, so it’s fitting.”

Vanessa was speechless, brain still trying to comprehend what was going on, if this was happening. “You-you don’t even know me.”

“I do though,” Monique insisted.

“Not well enough to _marry_ me!” Vanessa exclaimed.

“I think I do,” she responded simply, as if this was totally normal.

“I’ve barely known you two days!”

“And that was enough time for me to know that I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Are you...?” Vanessa shook her head. “You not serious.”

Monique just smiled. “I love you.”

Vanessa’s whole body tensed. “You can’t mean that,” she whispered, worried that if she spoke too loud Monique might say it again.

Vanessa’s brain kept replaying that one little word over and over again in her mind. 

_Love. Love. Love._

Was that what it was? Was that the reason she went out with Monique that first night? Helped her win at Blackjack? Let her pay for dinner? Went back to her room? Was that the reason she had been willing to hear Monique out? Had given her another chance?

Was love the reason it felt so risky to be here? So exposed? Was love the reason that even now, when confronted with this insane idea, that a part of her wanted to say yes?

“Tell me I’m lying,” Monique spoke softly, taking Vanessa’s hands and placing them on either side of her face, forcing their eyes to meet. “You read people so well. Tell me I’m lying,” she breathed.

Vanessa sighed and looked, really looked at Monique. 

The older woman’s eyes were deep in their softness, vulnerable and open, holding nothing back. Vanessa felt a full-body shiver take over as realization dawned on her. 

There was no trace of anything malicious in Monique’s eyes. No trace of anything other than raw adoration. 

She looked at Vanessa like she was the lights on the Vegas strip. 

Like she had never seen anything more beautiful.

Vanessa nearly took a step back at the intensity of emotion staring her down. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, Monique’s eyes never ceasing in their openness, the joy and fear and love pouring out threatening to drown her. 

And yet it didn’t. 

Every crash of emotion against Vanessa’s chest that edged on too much eased a moment later, the same emotion that held her captive freed her in the same breath.

“Monique—” Vanessa started, unsure herself of what she wanted to say.

“I know.” Monique nodded, taking Vanessa’s hands in her own, the two of them fitting together as if they were always meant to. “I know this is crazy and I know you have your doubts and you’re fearful of the world because people have hurt you in the past. I know even though you’ve never said it, that you’re waiting for me to do the same.” Monique gave her a small smile and stepped that much closer. “I’m not perfect, not by half. But I am in love with you. So let me. Let me love you imperfectly.” 

The sheer amount of feeling Monique conjured in Vanessa, the confusion and elation and fear and comfort and _love_ … It was overwhelming. 

It made her want to let her guard down.

“Why do I wanna say yes?” Vanessa shook her head in spite of the smile on her face. “God, you make me crazy.”

Monique chuckled, and Vanessa’s heart leapt, pressing itself against her chest in an effort to get closer to Monique. 

“So I guess the feeling is mutual.” 

It was Vanessa’s turn to laugh, the sound echoing in her own ears the longer she let it. Monique just grinned at her, only leaning in to capture her lips when Vanessa paused to take a breath in.

The air around them felt so light, Vanessa swore she could float out of her skin. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay here, lips pressed against Monique, body sparking at her touch, smile set in the corners of her eyes.

“So what do you say?” Monqiue held her close, hands planted firmly on Vanessa’s waist. “Will you marry me?”

“Aren’t you already married?” Vanessa quirked an eyebrow up. 

“Divorce papers were sent to him the moment you got in the car.” Monique smiled. “They should arrive tomorrow.”

Vanessa shook her head with a chuckle and leaned back in Monique’s arms to take her in.

“Ask me again tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @imalwaysaslutfordrag


End file.
